


A Clear Vision

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: I was challenged by ellethom with the word "Crystal" for the Friday Fast Fic Challenge. This took about thirty minutes and is unbetaed, but hey FIC. Thanks Elle and everyone doing the Fast Fic Challenge. You made my Friday so much better.





	A Clear Vision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellethom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/gifts).



Maggy stuck one hand down her blouse and reajusted her left breast before using both hands to plump up her cleavage. People always expected the fortuneteller to have cleavage. She rolled her eyes. Telling them their 'future' was never enough. She had to wear a turban, throw on some colorful scarves and a long skirt pairing with a peasant blouse. All she really wanted was to be wearing her Night's Watch tee shirt and a pair of jeans.

She reached over and polished her crystal ball. The day had been full of giggling girls wanting to marry princes, heartbroken boys wanting to reunite with their exes and, sadly, parents of lost children wanting comfort. She was able to give all of them something to hold on to, even if every 'fortune' that day had been fake, full of vague words and assurances. Her fucking crystal ball was moodier than a man in the middle of a mid-life crisis. It was a good thing she had her routine down pat. She could make people believe she saw their futures even when the damn ball remain cloudy.

Her assistant, Melara, called out to her. "Does the Maegi have time for one more fortune this evening?"

Of course she had time for one more. This was how she made her money afterall. She paused before answering. It increased the drama. "Perhaps...one more, Melara,...but no more after that. The spirits grow weary. But the crystal ball, it calls to me once more." That should make them feel special enough. Maggy listened to the voices outside, a man and a woman, arguing, but then she could tell from Melara's smooth reply that the transaction had been completed. Good. Maggy hoped they had been charged double. She covered her crystal ball with a silk cloth.

Melara parted the drapes of Maggy's tent and showed in a couple, an odd couple that that. The man was tall and stunningly handsome, with his golden hair and green eyes. The woman was even taller and had a face that could stop a clock. Except for the eyes. Her blue eyes were remarkable.

Maggy pulled her own eyes away from the couple and motioned for them to sit down. "Your fortunes, they call to me." She inhaled deeply. "What is it that you want to know about your future?"

The woman looked at the man. He looked back. The two seemed to be having a conversation in only looks and expressions. After a moment, the woman huffed and looked away. The man grabbed her hand and forced her fingers to twine with his. He answered the question, "We want to know if we belong together--" he paused, "if we have a future together."

The woman muttered under her breath, "Ridiculous, of course not, mistake, would never work." She tried to pull her hand away. The man clung tighter, needing that contact as much as he needed an answer.

 _Interesting_ , Maggy thought. Considering their looks, it should be the woman desperate to be with the man and not the other way around. Ah well, it wasn't her place to judge, but rather just to spew some vague platitudes, make a buck and move on. She nodded sagely, "Yes, I can see there is a question of romance. Let us me look into my crystal ball and see your future."

With practiced panache, Maggy pulled the scarf from the ball and stared into it deeply, expecting, as had happened all day, to see her own distorted reflection. The ball clouded. Maggy caught her breath.

The clouds cleared and she saw images. The handsome man chained and being dragged through a medieval camp, then forced to kneel at the feet of a red-headed woman, but his eyes were drawn to the tall, ugly woman in armor just to her side. The image changed. The man and woman again, this time naked in a bath, baring their souls, and again, this time fighting with swords, dying together in each others' arms, lovers unable to love.

The ball filled with clouds again, only to clear upon the man and woman, this time recent, meeting for the first time in a park, arguing, fighting, neither trusting. The images changed rapidly. Working together, laughing together, becoming friends, protecting each other, challenging each other, longing for each other. Then the ball sharpened on an image of them wearing the same clothes as they were wearing now, the man handing the woman a gift, her refusing, him pleading with her, the woman's face doubting, afraid, but hopeful.

The ball clouded for a third time and the image came to her, crystal clear, the man and the woman now old and gray, sitting on a porchswing, holding hands much as they were now, watching children play in the yard. Watching their _grandchildren_. Then looking at each other, their eyes tired, lovers finally together.

Maggy caught her breath and barely stopped herself from pushing back from the table, so taken aback by the power and strength of her vision. Too shaken to couch her answer in the usual fortuneteller patter, she answered simply. "Yes."

 


End file.
